Bertie explained the mechanism and demonstrated by slipping a
loaded magazine up the hollow butt.
"It is so simple," he said. He shot the outer barrel back along the
inner one. "That loads it, and cocks it, you see. And then all I have
to do is pull the trigger, eight times, as fast as I can quiver my
finger. See that safety clutch. That's what I like about it. It is
safe. It is positively fool-proof." He slipped out the magazine.
"You see how safe it is."
As he held it in his hand, the muzzle came in line with Captain Malu's
stomach. Captain Malu's blue eyes looked at it unswervingly.
"Would you mind pointing it in some other direction?" he asked.
"It's perfectly safe," Bertie assured him. "I withdrew the magazine.
It's not loaded now, you know."
"A gun is always loaded."
"But this one isn't."
"Turn it away just the same."
Captain Malu's voice was flat and metallic and low, but his eyes never
left the muzzle until the line of it was drawn past him and away from
him.
"I'll bet a fiver it isn't loaded," Bertie proposed warmly.
The other shook his head.
"Then I'll show you."
Bertie started to put the muzzle to his own temple with the evident
intention of pulling the trigger.
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